The lord of the rings: The Keyblade chronicles
by jakeekaj13
Summary: the lord of the rings and kingdom hearts cross over. its my first fan fic. i hope you enjoy its still in early stages. it has boyxboy parts to it. please review to tell me what you think. XD Special thanks to Jambug150 for proof reading and motivating me. My tumblr for all of this is if anyone wants to look for piics and music and stuff
1. The Darkness Seeps

_I have redone this and some is similar some changes as well._

Three rings for the Elven kings under the sky,

Seven for the Dwarf lords in their halls of stone,

Nine for mortal men doomed to die,

One for the dark lord on his dark throne,

In the land of Mordor where shadows lie,

One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them,

One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the land of Mordor where shadows lie.

Sauron, the dark lord, swept over middle earth like a plague on the land, until one day he was opposed by forces of men and elves alike, he was defeated by Isildur, son of the dead king, and he took his ring for himself, but as the ring lived on so does Sauron in the land of Mordor.

Isildur was killed and he lost the ring, an age past and the ring had fallen in to legend until one day it was found by a creature, Gollum, who was evil and vile. The ring corrupted him and gave him long life. But the ring wants to be found so it left Gollum and was found by the Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, who took the ring where it has remained since.

Sauron discovered a keyhole that he did not quite understand. He knew it important to control it but he was not sure why. He spent years trying to unlock it using many different dark techniques. One day he poured in to the keyhole all of his evil and malice, unknown to him this had an effect on it. The keyhole started to deteriorate; this broke the connections between worlds with middle earth at the centre. The consequences for him were unexpected just like everyone else.

* * *

Frodo Baggins (Bilbo's nephew) has usually been considered strange by the entire shire but not by his friends, Samwise Gamgee (Sam), Meriadoc Brandybuck (Merry), Peregrin Took (Pippin), Sora Ouranos. All of which are hobbits but Sora lives all the way in Bree with Roxas Kaneis who is a human. They both spend a lot of time with the young hobbits of Hobbiton who are their very close friends.

The date was the 21st of September of the year 1401, Shire reckoning, and Frodo Baggins was sitting alone under the shade of a great oak tree just waiting, and reading a small book his uncle had given him. He then heard the faint clip clop of horses hooves; at this he jumped up with a smile. "Down for the door where it began," Frodo heard a calming deep voice singing. With that he ran to the source of the sound until he came to a grass verge overlooking a small road, when from around the corner a small cart being pulled by a large brown horse appeared. Upon this was a tall man dressed all in grey, he had long grey hair and a beard to match. Atop his head sat a big pointed grey hat also grey to match the rest of his attire.

"You're late!" Frodo said calmly as the old man stopped in front of him.

"A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." he replied in his deep bellowing voice. At this they then both burst out in terrible fits of laughter.

"It's wonderful to see you Gandalf!" Frodo exclaimed as he threw himself at Gandalf with his arms wide open. For this was Gandalf the grey a dear old friend of both Frodo and Bilbo's.

"You didn't think I'd miss your uncle Bilbo's birthday?" he asked rhetorically as Frodo sat next to him and they trotted of along the road. "So how is the old rascal? I hear it's going to be a party of special magnificence."

"You know Bilbo; he's got the whole place in an uproar."

"Well, that should please him"

"Half the shire has been invited. And the rest of them are turning up anyway. To tell you the truth, Bilbo's been a bit odd lately. I mean, more than usual… he has taken to locking himself in his study. He spends so long just looking at old maps when he thinks himself alone. He's up to something." With that Gandalf gave him a strange look. "All right then keep your secrets" Frodo said with a smile across his face changing the mood dramatically.

"What?"

"But I know you have something to do with it."

"Good gracious me."

"Before you came along we Bagginses were very well thought of."

"Indeed."

"Never had any adventures or did anything unexpected."

"If your referring to the incident with the dragon, I was barely involved, all I did was give your uncle a little nudge out the door."

"Whatever you did, you have officially been labelled a disturber of the peace."

"Oh really?" Gandalf muttered with a suppressed look upon his face. As they were passing many houses and fields a few hobbit children came up behind the cart wanting fireworks, so as to keep them happy he sent the odd little spark out towards them.

"Gandalf I'm glad your back," Frodo told the old man as he stood.

"So am, I dear boy, so am I." and with that Frodo jumped off the cart and walked away to go and see his friends

Gandalf carried on up around one hill and then another then finally up one more. He stopped outside a small gate. It had a sign on it that said 'No admittance, except on party business', he walked through the gate and up to the round green door situated in the side of the hill. He knocked his long wooden staff against the door. "No thank you! We don't want any more visitors, well wishes or distance relations" a voice shouted from behind the door.

"Well, what about very old friends!" bellowed Gandalf at the door. With that, the door flew open and a hobbit burst out and beckoned Gandalf in to a hug.

"Come in, come in." Bilbo said walking back inside with Gandalf fallowing to him stooping over to squeeze through the door that only came up to his waist. "Would you like anything, tea?"

"Yes, that would be very nice thank you" with that they sat down and had a good talk about what has recently happened and reminisced about their old adventures together.

Later on that evening, inside Bag End, Bilbo and Gandalf were sitting at the open window of a small room looking out west on to the garden. The sun was setting just over the horizon bathing the shire in the warm red light. The garden was full of marvellous colours ranging from blues to reds and yellows to purples. 'How bright your garden looks!' said Gandalf.

'Yes,' said Bilbo. I am very fond indeed of it, and of all the dear old Shire; but I think I need a holiday.'

'You mean to go on with your plan then?'

'I do. I made up my mind months ago, and I haven't changed it.'

'Very well. It is no good saying any more. Stick to your plan, your whole plan, mind, and I hope it will turn out for the best, for you, and for all of us.'

'I hope so. Anyway I mean to enjoy myself on Thursday, and have my little joke.'

'Who will laugh, I wonder?' said Gandalf, shaking his head.

'We shall see tomorrow at the party,' said Bilbo.


	2. A Long-Expected Party

_I know some of this is direct from the book or film but bear with it until I can add my own flare._

The next morning the hobbits woke to find the large field, south of Bilbo's front door, covered with ropes and poles for tents and pavilions. A special entrance was cut into the bank leading to the road, and wide steps and a large white gate were built there. The three hobbit-families of Bagshot Row, adjoining the field, were intensely interested and generally envied. Old Gaffer Gamgee stopped even pretending to work in his garden.

The tents began to go up. There was a very large pavilion, so big that the tree that grew in the field was right inside it, and stood proudly near one end, at the head of the chief table. Lanterns were hung on all its branches. More promising still (to the hobbits' mind): an enormous open-air kitchen was erected in the north corner of the field. A draught of cooks, from every inn and eating-house for miles around, arrived to supplement the dwarves and other odd folk that were quartered at Bag End. Excitement rose to its height.

Bilbo Baggins called it a party, but it was really a variety of entertainments rolled into one. Practically everybody living near was invited. A very few were overlooked by accident, but as they turned up all the same, that did not matter. Many people from other parts of the Shire were also asked; and there were even a few from outside the borders. Bilbo met the guests (and additions) at the new white gate in person. He gave away presents to all and sundry. The latter were those who went out again by a back way and came in again by the gate. Hobbits give presents to other people on their own birthdays. Not very expensive ones, as a rule, and not so lavishly as on this occasion; but it was not a bad system. Actually in Hobbiton and Bywater every day in the year it was somebody's birthday, so that every hobbit in those parts had a fair chance of at least one present at least once a week. But they never got tired of them.

On this occasion the presents were unusually good. The hobbit-children were so excited that for a while they almost forgot about eating. There were toys the like of which they had never seen before, all beautiful and some obviously magical. Many of them had indeed been ordered a year before, and had come all the way from the Mountain and from Dale, and were of real dwarf-make.

When every guest had been welcomed and was finally inside the gate, there were songs, dances, music, games, and, of course, food and drink. There were three official meals: lunch, tea, and dinner (or supper). But lunch and tea were marked chiefly by the fact that at those times all the guests were sitting down and eating together. At other times there were merely lots of people eating and drinking continuously from elevenses until six-thirty, when the fireworks started.

The fireworks were by Gandalf: they were not only brought by him, but designed and made by him; and the special effects, set pieces, and flights of rockets were let off by him. But there was also a generous distribution of squibs, crackers, backarappers, sparklers, torches, dwarf-candles, elf- fountains, goblin-barkers and thunder-claps. They were all superb. The art of Gandalf improved with age.

There were rockets like a flight of scintillating birds singing with sweet voices. There were green trees with trunks of dark smoke: their leaves opened like a whole spring unfolding in a moment, and their shining branches dropped glowing flowers down upon the astonished hobbits, disappearing with a sweet scent just before they touched their upturned faces. There were fountains of butterflies that flew glittering into the trees; there were pillars of coloured fires that rose and turned into eagles, or sailing ships, or a phalanx of flying swans; there was a red thunderstorm and a shower of yellow rain; there was a forest of silver spears that sprang suddenly into the air with a yell like an embattled army, and came down again into the Water with a hiss like a hundred hot snakes. And there was also one last surprise, in honour of Bilbo, but as a surprise to himself the firework was missing.

"Hurry up and light it" a low voice hissed at the edge of the party.

"Easier said than done!" replied another. And with that to surprise of all the hobbits and Gandalf the lights went out. A great smoke went up. It shaped itself like a mountain seen in the distance, and began to glow at the summit. It spouted green and scarlet flames. Out flew a red-golden dragon. Not life-size, but terribly life-like: fire came from his jaws, his eyes glared down; there was a roar, and he whizzed three times over the heads of the crowd. They all ducked, and many fell flat on their faces. The dragon passed like an express train, turned a somersault, and burst over Bywater with a deafening explosion.

'That is the signal for supper!' said Bilbo. The pain and alarm vanished at once, and the prostrate hobbits leaped to their feet. There was a splendid supper for everyone; for everyone, that is, except those invited to the special family dinner-party. This was held in the great pavilion with the tree. The invitations were limited to twelve dozen (a number also called by the hobbits one Gross, though the word was not considered proper to use when talking about people); and the guests were selected from all the families to which Bilbo and Frodo were related, with the addition of a few special unrelated friends (such as Gandalf). Many young hobbits were included, and present by parental permission; for hobbits were easy-going with their children in the matter of sitting up late, especially when there was a chance of getting them a free meal.

There were many Bagginses and Boffins, and also many Tooks and Brandybucks; there were various Grubbs (relations of Bilbo Baggins' grandmother), and various Chubbs (connexions of his Took grandfather); and a selection of Burrowses, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Brockhouses, Goodbodies, Hornblowers and Proudfoots. Some of these were only very distantly connected with Bilbo, and some of them had hardly ever been in Hobbiton before, as they lived in remote corners of the Shire. The Sackville-Bagginses were not forgotten. Otho and his wife Lobelia were present. They disliked Bilbo and detested Frodo, but so magnificent was the invitation card, written in golden ink, that they had felt it was impossible to refuse. Besides, their cousin, Bilbo, had been specializing in food for many years and his table had a high reputation.

All the one hundred and forty-four guests expected a pleasant feast; though they rather dreaded the after-dinner speech of their host (an inevitable item). He was liable to drag in bits of what he called poetry; and sometimes, after a glass or two, would allude to the absurd adventures of his mysterious journey. The guests were not disappointed: they had a very pleasant feast, in fact an engrossing entertainment: rich, abundant, varied, and prolonged. The purchase of provisions fell almost to nothing throughout the district in the ensuing weeks; but as Bilbo's catering had depleted the stocks of most stores, cellars and warehouses for miles around, that did not matter much.

After the feast (more or less) came the Speech. Most of the company were, however, now in a tolerant mood, at that delightful stage which they called 'filling up the corners'. They were sipping their favourite drinks, and nibbling at their favourite dainties, and their fears were forgotten. They were prepared to listen to anything, and to cheer at every full stop.

"My dear People", began Bilbo, rising in his place. 'Hear! Hear! Hear!' they shouted, and kept on repeating it in chorus, seeming reluctant to follow their own advice. Bilbo left his place and went and stood on a chair under the illuminated tree. The light of the lanterns fell on his beaming face; the golden buttons shone on his embroidered silk waistcoat. They could all see him standing, waving one hand in the air, the other was in his trouser-pocket.

"My dear Bagginses and Boffins, he began again; and my dear Tooks and Brandybucks, and Grubbs, and Chubbs, and Burrowses, and Hornblowers, and Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Goodbodies, Brockhouses and Proudfoots."

"ProudFEET!" shouted an elderly hobbit from the back of the pavilion. His name, of course, was Proudfoot, and well merited; his feet were large, exceptionally furry, and both were on the table.

"Proudfoots," repeated Bilbo. "Also my good Sackville-Bagginses that I welcome back at last to Bag End. Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday: I am eleventy-one today!"

"Hurray! Hurray! Many Happy Returns!" they shouted, and they hammered joyously on the tables. Bilbo was doing splendidly. This was the sort of stuff they liked: short and obvious.

"I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as much as I am?" Deafening cheers. Cries of Yes (and No). Noises of trumpets and horns, pipes and flutes, and other musical instruments. There were, as has been said, many young hobbits present. Hundreds of musical crackers had been pulled. Most of them bore the mark DALE on them; which did not convey much to most of the hobbits, but they all agreed they were marvellous crackers. They contained instruments, small, but of perfect make and enchanting tones. Indeed, in one corner some of the young Tooks and Brandybucks, supposing Uncle Bilbo to have finished (since he had plainly said all that was necessary), now got up an impromptu orchestra, and began a merry dance-tune. Master Everard Took and Miss Melilot Brandybuck got on a table and with bells in their hands began to dance the Springle-ring: a pretty dance, but rather vigorous.

But Bilbo had not finished. Seizing a horn from a youngster nearby, he blew three loud hoots. The noise subsided. "I shall not keep you long," he cried. Cheers from all the assembly. "I have called you all together for a Purpose." Something in the way that he said this made an impression. There was almost silence, and one or two of the Tooks pricked up their ears.

"Indeed, for Three Purposes! First of all, to tell you that I am immensely fond of you all, and that eleventy-one years is too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits." Tremendous outburst of approval.

"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve." This was unexpected and rather difficult. There was some scattered clapping, but most of them were trying to work it out and see if it came to a compliment.

"Secondly, to celebrate my birthday." Cheers again. "I should say: OUR birthday. For it is, of course, also the birthday of my heir and nephew, Frodo. He comes of age and into his inheritance today." Some perfunctory clapping by the elders; and some loud shouts of "Frodo! Frodo! Jolly old Frodo," from the juniors. The Sackville-Bagginses scowled, and wondered what was meant by 'coming into his inheritance'. "Together we score one hundred and forty-four. Your numbers were chosen to fit this remarkable total: One Gross, if I may use the expression." No cheers. This was ridiculous. Many of his guests, and especially the Sackville-Bagginses, were insulted, feeling sure they had only been asked to fill up the required number, like goods in a package. 'One Gross, indeed! Vulgar expression.'

"It is also, if I may be allowed to refer to ancient history, the anniversary of my arrival by barrel at Esgaroth on the Long Lake; though the fact that it was my birthday slipped my memory on that occasion. I was only fifty-one then, and birthdays did not seem so important. The banquet was very splendid, however, though I had a bad cold at the time, I remember, and could only say 'thag you very buch'. I now repeat it more correctly: Thank you very much for coming to my little party." Obstinate silence. They all feared that a song or some poetry was now imminent; and they were getting bored. Why couldn't he stop talking and let them drink his health? But Bilbo did not sing or recite. He paused for a moment.

"Thirdly and finally, he said, I wish to make an ANNOUNCEMENT. He spoke this last word so loudly and suddenly that everyone sat up who still could. I regret to announce that, though, as I said, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to spend among you, this is the END. I am going. I am leaving NOW. GOOD-BYE!" with that he slipped the ring quickly over his finger and disappeared instantly to the surprise of most apart from the odd few such as Gandalf and Frodo. But to cover Bilbo's back Gandalf made a large flash and puff of smoke where he was.

With that he took off and ran back up to his home. When there he slipped his ring off and back in to his pocket. Then he went in. He took off his party clothes, folded up and wrapped in tissue-paper his embroidered silk waistcoat, and put it away. Then he put on quickly some old untidy garments, and fastened round his waist a worn leather belt. On it he hung a short sword in a battered black-leather scabbard. From a locked drawer, smelling of moth-balls, he took out an old cloak and hood. They had been locked up as if they were very precious, but they were so patched and weather stained that their original colour could hardly be guessed: it might have been dark green. They were rather too large for him. He then went into his study, and from a large strong-box took out a bundle wrapped in old cloths, and a leather-bound manuscript; and also a large bulky envelope. The book and bundle he stuffed into the top of a heavy bag that was standing there, already nearly full. Into the envelope he slipped his golden ring, and its fine chain, and then sealed it, and addressed it to Frodo. At first he put it on the mantelpiece, but suddenly he removed it and stuck it in his pocket. At that moment the door opened and Gandalf came quickly in.

"Hello!" said Bilbo. "I wondered if you would turn up."

"I am glad to find you visible," replied the wizard, sitting down in a chair, "I wanted to catch you and have a few final words. I suppose you feel that everything has gone off splendidly and according to plan?"

"Yes, I do," said Bilbo. "Though that flash was surprising: it quite startled me, let alone the others. A little addition of your own, I suppose?"

"It was. You have wisely kept that ring secret all these years, and it seemed to me necessary to give your guests something else that would seem to explain your sudden vanishing act."

"And would spoil my joke. You are an interfering old busybody," laughed Bilbo, "but I expect you know best, as usual."

"I do . When I know anything. But I don't feel too sure about this whole affair. It has now come to the final point. You have had your joke, and alarmed or offended most of your relations, and given the whole Shire something to talk about for nine days, or ninety-nine more likely. Are you going any further?"

"Yes, I am. I feel I need a holiday, a very long holiday, as I have told you before. Probably a permanent holiday: I don't expect I shall return. In fact, I don't mean to, and I have made all arrangements."

"I am old, Gandalf. I don't look it, but I am beginning to feel it in my heart of hearts. Well-preserved indeed!" he snorted. "Why, I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. That can't be right. I need a change, or something."

Gandalf looked curiously and closely at him. "No, it does not seem right," he said thoughtfully. "No, after all I believe your plan is probably the best."

"Well, I've made up my mind, anyway. I want to see mountains again, Gandalf, mountains, and then find somewhere where I can rest. In peace and quiet, without a lot of relatives prying around, and a string of confounded visitors hanging on the bell. I might find somewhere where I can finish my book. I have thought of a nice ending for it: and he lived happily ever after to the end of his days."

Gandalf laughed. "I hope he will. But nobody will read the book, however it ends."

"Oh, they may, in years to come. Frodo has read some already, as far as it has gone. You'll keep an eye on Frodo, won't you?"

"Yes, I will. Two eyes, as often as I can spare them."

"He would come with me, of course, if I asked him. In fact he offered to once, just before the party. But he does not really want to, yet. I want to see the wild country again before I die, and the Mountains; but he is still in love with the Shire, with woods and fields and little rivers. He ought to be comfortable here. I am leaving everything to him, of course, except a few oddments. I hope he will be happy, when he gets used to being on his own. It's time he was his own master now."

"Everything?" said Gandalf. "The ring as well? You agreed to that, you remember."

"Well, er, yes, I suppose so," stammered Bilbo.

"Where is it?"

"In an envelope, if you must know," said Bilbo impatiently. "There on the mantelpiece. Well, no! Here it is in my pocket!" He hesitated. "Isn't that odd now?" he said softly to himself. "Yet after all, why not? Why shouldn't it stay there?"

Gandalf looked again very hard at Bilbo, and there was a gleam in his eyes. "I think, Bilbo," he said quietly, "you should leave it behind. Don't you want to?"

"Well yes .And no. Now it comes to it, I don't like parting with it at all, I may say. And I don't really see why I should. Why do you want me to?" he asked, and a curious change came over his voice. It was sharp with suspicion and annoyance. "You are always badgering me about my ring; but you have never bothered me about the other things that I got on my journey."

"No, but I had to badger you," said Gandalf. "I wanted the truth. It was important. Magic rings are. Well, magical; and they are rare and curious. I was professionally interested in your ring, you may say; and I still am. I should like to know where it is, if you go wandering again. Also I think you have had it quite long enough. You won't need it any more. Bilbo, unless I am quite mistaken."

Bilbo flushed, and there was an angry light in his eyes. His kindly face grew hard. "Why not?" he cried. "And what business is it of yours; anyway, to know what I do with my own things? It is my own. I found it. It came to me."

"Yes, yes," said Gandalf. "But there is no need to get angry."

"If I am it is your fault," said Bilbo. "It is mine, I tell you. My own. My precious. Yes, my precious."

The wizard's face remained grave and attentive, and only a flicker in his deep eyes showed that he was startled and indeed alarmed. "It has been called that before," he said, "but not by you."

"But I say it now. And why not? Even if Gollum said the same once. It's not his now, but mine. And I shall keep it, I say."

Gandalf stood up. He spoke sternly. "You will be a fool if you do. Bilbo," he said. "You make that clearer with every word you say. It has got far too much hold on you. Let it go! And then you can go yourself, and be free."

"I'll do as I choose and go as I please," said Bilbo obstinately.

"Now, now, my dear hobbit!" said Gandalf. "All your long life we have been friends, and you owe me something. Come! Do as you promised: give it up!"

"Well, if you want my ring yourself, say so!" cried Bilbo. "But you won't get it. I won't give my precious away, I tell you." His hand strayed to the hilt of his small sword.

Gandalf's eyes flashed. "It will be my turn to get angry soon," he said. "If you say that again, I shall. Then you will see Gandalf the Grey uncloaked." He took a step towards the hobbit, and he seemed to grow tall and menacing; his shadow filled the little room.

Bilbo backed away to the wall, breathing hard, his hand clutching at his pocket. They stood for a while facing one another, and the air of the room tingled. Gandalf's eyes remained bent on the hobbit. Slowly his hands relaxed, and he began to tremble.

"I don't know what has come over you, Gandalf," he said. "You have never been like this before. What is it all about? It is mine isn't it? I found it, and Gollum would have killed me, if I hadn't kept it. I'm not a thief, whatever he said."

"I have never called you one," Gandalf answered. "And I am not one either. I am not trying to rob you, but to help you. I wish you would trust me, as you used." He turned away, and the shadow passed. He seemed to dwindle again to an old grey man, bent and troubled.

Bilbo drew his hand over his eyes. "I am sorry," he said. "But I felt so queer. And yet it would be a relief in a way not to be bothered with it any more. It has been so growing on my mind lately. Sometimes I have felt it was like an eye looking at me. And I am always wanting to put it on and disappear, don't you know; or wondering if it is safe, and pulling it out to make sure. I tried locking it up, but I found I couldn't rest without it in my pocket. I don't know why. And I don't seem able to make up my mind."

"Then trust mine," said Gandalf. "It is quite made up. Go away and leave it behind. Stop possessing it. Give it to Frodo, and I will look after him."

Bilbo stood for a moment tense and undecided. Presently he sighed. "All right," he said with an effort. I will." Then he shrugged his shoulders, and smiled rather ruefully. "After all that's what this party business was all about, really: to give away lots of birthday presents, and somehow make it easier to give it away at the same time. It hasn't made it any easier in the end, but it would be a pity to waste all my preparations. It would quite spoil the joke."

"Indeed it would take away the only point I ever saw in the affair," said Gandalf.

"Very well," said Bilbo, "it goes to Frodo with all the rest." He drew a deep breath. "And now I really must be starting, or somebody else will catch me. I have said good-bye, and I couldn't bear to do it all over again." He picked up his bag and moved to the door.

"You have still got the ring in your pocket," said the wizard.

"Well, so I have!" cried Bilbo. "And my will and all the other documents too. You had better take it and deliver it for me. That will be safest."

"No, don't give the ring to me," said Gandalf. "Put it on the mantelpiece. It will be safe enough there, till Frodo comes. I shall wait for him."

Bilbo took out the envelope, but just as he was about to set it by the clock, his hand jerked back, and the packet fell on the floor. Before he could pick it up, the wizard stooped and seized it and set it in its place. A spasm of anger passed swiftly over the hobbit's face again. Suddenly it gave way to a look of relief and a laugh. "Well, that's that," he said. "Now I'm off!"

They went out into the hall. Bilbo chose his favourite stick from the stand; then he whistled. Three dwarves came out of different rooms where they had been busy.

"Is everything ready?" asked Bilbo. "Everything packed and labelled?"

"Everything," they answered.

"Well, let's start then!" He stepped out of the front-door.

It was a fine night, and the black sky was dotted with stars. He looked up, sniffing the air. "What fun! What fun to be off again, off on the Road with dwarves! This is what I have really been longing for, for years! Good- bye!" he said, looking at his old home and bowing to the door. "Good-bye, Gandalf!"

"Good-bye, for the present, Bilbo. Take care of yourself! You are old enough, and perhaps wise enough."

"Take care! I don't care. Don't you worry about me! I am as happy now as I have ever been, and that is saying a great deal. But the time has come. I am being swept off my feet at last," he added, and then in a low voice, as if to himself, he sang softly in the dark:

"The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say."

He paused, silent for a moment. Then without another word he turned away from the lights and voices in the fields and tents, and followed by his three companions went round into his garden, and trotted down the long sloping path. He jumped over a low place in the hedge at the bottom, and took to the meadows, passing into the night like a rustle of wind in the grass.

Gandalf remained for a while staring after him into the darkness. "Goodbye, my dear Bilbo. Until our next meeting!" he said softly and went back indoors.


End file.
